


Calm After the Storm

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Afterlife, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catching Up, End Game Spoilers, Five Years Later, Fluff and Angst, Happy-ish anyway, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Reunions, Spirits, Spoilers, Ten Years Later, saying goodbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: It's been five years since the Lucian Dawn, and Ignis can finally save good-bye.





	Calm After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different, shorter take from how I originally wanted this to go, but it still hurts. So, here we are.

Galdin Quay was as warm as ever. Ignis didn’t worry too much about the humidity anymore. After all he had been through, the ever present warmth was a reminder of the dawn, of the hope he and the others fought so tirelessly to earn.

     “You gonna be okay?” Gladio asked in his rough voice.

     “We can help you down the stairs if you want.”

Ignis swung his cane deftly with one hand and snapped it against his friend’s calves. They groaned at the sudden hit; Ignis smiled a bit in satisfaction.

     “I’ll be fine. I’m sure I know the docks better than most by now.”

     Gladio let out a noncommittal noise. “Yeah, well. We’ll be up here if you need anything.”

     “Thank you.” Ignis tapped his cane in front of him and began down the small set of stairs.

It felt warmer being so close to the water. He could hear a couple drawing closer from the sound of their conversation, but they stopped to let him pass. Ignis bowed his head in thanks and continued on. One slight right, and he found the wooden bench near the end of the dock. It was a new addition and also worked as a fixture recreational boats could anchor to easily.

Ignis carefully sat down; he stood his cane between his legs. His fingers idly trailed over the silver couerl’s head as he pondered his thoughts. A seabird cried out; its call tore through the silence. Ignis let out a steady breath through his parted lips.

     “I almost feel as if I shouldn’t bother you,” he began gently, “but I want you to know that everything is going according to your plan. It’s been a hassle reworking borders and enacting leadership in the new provinces. Though we have made strides, people are still afraid of the dark… Faith is shaken; people worry that the hope they achieved is only temporary, that there will yet be some greater even to be saved from, and their Chosen King is too far gone to help. But we are making strides, Noctis. You would be proud of us.”

He waited for a moment, wondering if he would feel the cool wind of Noctis’ presence again. A breeze did come, but there was no familiar voice, not as he had hoped. He continued on.

     “The Kingdom is still being rebuilt, but plans are being made to make it more accessible. More ports will open, and so we are looking to Accordo for guidance in this matter. We are widening the bridge to put manmade land between it and the rest of the continent. We do not wish for isolation; at the same time, we find it hard to let go of Insomnia.” Ignis blinked, falling into a brief silence. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “But Insomnia is not the same without you, Noct.”

He tightened his hand over the feline ornament of his cane. He felt his chest tighten over his heart, and an old pain started to rise up again.

     “I… We….” He didn’t want to get caught up; he tried to ignore the old wound that was opening. A wound that, five years later, had only _just_ started to heal. He cleared his throat. “Do you remember the coalition I told you about last year, Noct? Well, it’s going to have its global debut soon. The Council, we call it, for it needs no ostentatious name. It is meant for the people. We’ve decided to keep the name for the Crownsguard; though the Kingsglaive will simply be called ‘The Glaive’. It’s more fitting, considering our new political climate.

     “As you know, I’ve been ask to join The Council some time ago, and after much deliberation, I’ve finally decided to accept their invitation. My terms were simple that I could elect my own cabinet and that I could continue to serve the people as I have thus far. As you can imagine, I’ve a wealth of support behind me. I do not fear what’s to come; I look eagerly towards the horizon of our… of our bright future.”

He pressed his lips together before leaning forward, bringing his head down onto his clasped hands. The water lapped at the dock. Someone laughed behind him in the dining area. There was another cry of a seabird, but Ignis was consumed by his own emotions. He drew in a shaky breath. There was no point in holding back.

     “We are all still learning how to live again, Noct. Prompto’s brigade is helping track down what remains of the Nilfgardian experiments, and Talcott’s been an absolute boon in our scholastic effort to archive these atrocities and the Decade of Night. We’ve been moving ever forward because you paved the way.”

His voice broke towards the end of his statement. He prided himself on not being an emotional man, but it was so hard to keep his usual level of calm. He leaned his head back and faced the sun. Even in the face of its warmth, there was an almost familiar coolness on the wind. It was faint, just enough to be present. Ignis sucked in a breath.

     “I would give… so much to have you here with us, to have you return as King and take pride in the world you helped save. The flowers of this world blossom in your name, Noctis, and hope rises because of your selflessness. And I… I wish to honour that, but it is my own selfishness that keeps me clinging to the pain of your loss. The others haven’t moved on either; I know they haven’t… but your absence is a wound in my heart, Noct.

     “Because of what you done, all the world shall know your name. Because of Talcott’s efforts, because we sing your praises, your memory will not be forgotten, but I…”

Ignis stopped himself, unable to find any words to express succinctly or verbosely what he felt. He huffed, an action that was caught between a sob and a sigh. He shook his head slowly and lowered his hands down the length of his cane. He licked his lips and closed his eyes. A chill passed over his shoulders, and there was a vision in his mind. Noctis was at the throne with Luna, Regis and Clarus at his side, and a Kingsglaive Ignis now knew as Nyx was kneeling before it. His lips curled a smile as a tear rolled down one cheek.

     Ignis shook his head again as the vision faded. “Are you at peace… Your Majesty?”

The humidity lifted away. Ignis could feel a cool presence against his back and around his shoulders. He hesitantly reached up a hand to touch the sensation. His soul sang; he felt the familiar power of the Providence flow through his body. He squeezed his eyes tighter, and tears quietly ran freely now.

     “Take care, my dear Noctis,” Ignis whispered now, “and please, guide us always.”

He hated to feel Noctis go. He hated to be taken from him yet again, but this was the way things were meant to be. Ignis moved his hand up to his face and allowed himself a chance to break. He was quiet in his sorrow. The tears fell uninhibited. Ignis’ other hand squeezed the cane tightly until he came back to himself. Ignis took in a shaky breath, reached into the inner pocket of his cloak, and produced a handkerchief. He cleaned his face with a shaky hand. At the end of it all, he covered his mouth, trying to steady his breathing as he kept himself from crying again.

Finally, he stood. Ignis tucked his cane in the crook of his arm as he folded his handkerchief. He tucked it back into his inner pocket and set his cane properly on the floor once more. He turned it idly, wondering if there was anything left to say. Though his heart was tender, his soul was content.

     “Farewell and _fare well_ , O King of Lucis, bastion of hope,” he said before making his way around the bench. “We'll meet again.”


End file.
